


Fable

by wisdomeagle



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Allegory, Angst, Community: femslash_minis, F/F, Kittens, Storytelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-30
Updated: 2005-10-30
Packaged: 2017-10-27 01:29:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/290125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisdomeagle/pseuds/wisdomeagle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which there is a kitty</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fable

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Netgirl_y2k](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Netgirl_y2k/gifts).



> Written to the prompt, "Willow/Tara, Miss Kitty Fantastico, relationship problems, and angst."

Once upon a time there was a kitty, sleek and pretty, who was owned by a lovely family who took excellent care of her, stroking her back, feeding her cold milk and warm tuna so that her tummy was always full. Her coat was kept shiny and her whiskers trimmed; she was the very model of a contented kitty. She was never lonesome, for there was always someone ready to play with her, and she was never sad, because if her tail drooped just a little, someone would fluff her blanket and bottle-feed her milk till she was well again.

One day, the puss was tired and cross and only wanted to lie under the couch with the dust mites, growling at the mice and getting itself wonderfully dirty. The cat was in a snit.

Why?

I don't know. Why do cats do anything they do? This cat rarely did exactly what she pleased, because she loved best of all to be pampered and caressed, but today she knew, in the cattiest part of herself, that if she faced the rough stroking and "nice kitty"ing of her family for one more minute, she would snarl and snap and rip someone's skin off. So she hid under the couch with the dust and the discarded cat toys and the cheerios and the pocket change and purred softly, happy.

She was just falling asleep, was lying between dust-mites and dreams, when the hair of her back began to prickle, and she snapped to alertness, claws out, teeth just slipping out of her mouth. She stalked back further under the couch till her nose accidentally brushed the wainscoting. She growled, and a hand darted under the couch, grabbed her by her ruff.

This is a very upsetting story.

Well, the cat's owner wanted to play with her, was bored and lonely and tired of doing homework and didn't understand that the cat needed to sit by herself for awhile under the couch, like good cats do. If a cat didn't spend some time lying in her very own sunbeam or enjoying her very own dust balls, she wouldn't be truly a cat, would she?

This story has a moral, doesn't it?

Well, the cat came out from under the couch in a huff, and consented to being stroked and petted, and pushed aside her unhappiness and lonesomeness for a while longer so that she could be a good pet for her owner, who loved her very much, after all, and always took such good care of her and gave her the richest cream. She didn't want to be a disappointing kitty, thought that if she didn't always behave just so, she would be tossed back onto the street where she'd been found. She would have to scavenge for food, and no one would ever pet her or tell her how wonderful she was, and she didn't want that, not at all, so she...

She what?

...it's late. I'm tired. They all lived happily ever after. The end.


End file.
